Betrayal at Falador

darkness of an alleyway.

“But Squire Theodore…” he protested, suddenly on edge.

“I know!” came the reply. “Help is at hand. Now come on!”

THIRTY-FOUR

Kara was silent as she entered the room. She could hear Doric’s groans, and the padded feet of an adversary stalking her in the darkness.

“A girl? They send a girl to fight me?” he sneered, and the voice was like that of an animal. She had never heard anything quite like it.

She said nothing, her dark eyes peering into the blackness around her.

The monster laughed, a deep, throaty sound. She guessed that he could see in the darkness as well as any human could in daylight.

“I have bested a squire and a seasoned dwarf tonight, my dear,” he taunted from the safety of the shadows. “But I shall enjoy hurting you more than any of the others.”

Kara stepped back toward the door as if she suddenly meant to run. As she did, she heard the monster move closer.

“Theodore? Are you all right?” She kept her voice steady.

The squire groaned, and she could tell that he was gagged.

“Run, girl,” Doric urged.

“I came for Theodore” she replied calmly. “I will not leave without him.”

Standing a few paces away, the monster was puzzled. He recognised the scent of fear on humans, knew what it did to people. But here, in this house, he sensed that this slight girl was totally unafraid.

Suddenly the girl stepped boldly forward, her sword held before her. The monster ducked backward, circling to stand a single pace behind her.

How to do it? he pondered, and licked his lips. Many decades earlier, his mother had taught him not to play with his food, telling him that he would be burnt by a mage or cut with a holy blade if he did so. But she had died a long time ago, and this girl who stepped blithely into the room did not know what manner of creature he was.

He decided to play.

He leaned forward, a claw hovering an inch from her skin.

The girl struck.

She spun on her heel, driving her blade into his body with all her strength, forcing it through the tough skin that had protected him from all manner of human weapons over the years.

He screamed with pain, his eyes widening as he felt his own blood pour from a deep wound and stream onto the wooden floor of the house. He reached down and grasped the blade with both hands, pulling it from his body, the sword’s edges slicing deeply into his palms.

His strength was greater than hers, and she could not impale him further. So the girl stepped back and pulled the blade free, leaving two of his twitching fingers on the floor as she did so. Once again he screamed.

But still the girl hadn’t finished her dreadful work. She brought the sword over her head and into his face.

At the same time he made for the doorway, knowing now that it was his turn to run. As he did so, the sword tip sliced across his forehead, severing his left ear. His hot blood flowed freely into his eyes as he fled into the alley, his hands pressed against his stomach to staunch the wound.

He ignored the few onlookers he passed, his face revealed now for all to see: the face of the werewolf. None dared to stand in his way, for no guard or peon was willing to confront him at the gates to the city.

Within a short time he was away from Falador, back out in the countryside, nursing his wounds in a deep hollow a good distance from any road, away from the eyes of men.

By the dim light that filtered in through the door, Kara released Theodore, while Doric retrieved his axe. The dwarf pulled a match from his cloak and held it up, giving them some more light.

“How did you do that, Kara?” the squire asked in shock.

“She can see in the darkness,” Doric said.

Kara smiled wickedly.

“You are right, master dwarf” she said in his own language. “I have spent more time underground in the darkness of the mountains than above. My eyes have grown accustomed to seeing in darker places than this.”

Doric bowed deeply with genuine respect.

“You saved our lives,” he said in the common tongue. “I owe you a great debt.”

“As do I, Kara” Theodore said slowly. Yet the change in his voice told her that he was deeply unhappy. “But you left the castle when I specifically asked you not to. You put yourself in danger.”

Kara was in no mood for Theodore’s lecture.

“I saved your life, as well, Theodore. The monster was after you-not me.”

“I did not mean the danger of the monster, Kara…” Theodore’s temper had got the better of him and he lowered his gaze in haste.

“Then of what?” She tried to look him in the eye, but he wouldn’t allow it. “What else am I in danger from?”

Theodore shook his head and declined to answer. Doric lit the candle and immediately the room was illuminated with an eerie glow.

“Look at the blood!” Doric’s eyes widened as he gazed at Kara’s sword and the monster’s blood which still dripped onto the floor.

“It is pure black,” Theodore whispered, looking at it in disgust. “What creature was it? Could it be a werewolf?” His eyes turned to the dwarf.

“If legends are anything to go by, then surely so. A wolf in a man’s body-ideal for hiding in a city of men,” Doric said.

“We should find Bryant. He was here the longest, and maybe he can tell us more” Theodore advised, heading out into the alley.

The night air was cool on their flushed faces, the city of Falador was strangely quiet. A horse neighed and Theodore saw his mare wander into view.

“I told Bryant to take the horse back to the castle to get help,” Kara said, her hand once again gripping her sword.

“Bryant is usually very reliable” Theodore said. Kara saw his worried frown. “It might be his injury-perhaps he’s fainted?”

Swiftly the three companions moved to the junction of Dagger Alley.

It was the smell Kara noticed first, a sickly smell. Theodore turned his head away in sudden disgust and Kara stepped back to breathe the cleaner air.

Only Doric remained unmoved.

“It is blood.” The dwarf spoke quietly, his eyes glaring intently at the narrow passage that lay before them, attempting to make out the silent shapes.

Suddenly, one of the shapes moved in the darkness, and a thin sigh sounded.

Theodore and Kara overtook Doric as they ran forward simultaneously, their weapons readied for any new foe that might assail them.

Kara knew something was wrong, terribly wrong.

The squire reached the moving shadow and gently turned it over. As he did so the small figure sighed once again.

Hot tears leapt into Theodore’s eyes as he cursed in the darkness. Kara stifled a cry and dropped her sword, falling to her knees with her hands covering her eyes in despair. Doric averted his gaze and reverently removed his helm, shaking his head in anger.